


The Toes Have It

by mandykaysfic



Series: August Holidays [6]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-20
Updated: 2014-01-20
Packaged: 2018-01-09 09:46:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1144510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandykaysfic/pseuds/mandykaysfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Any reason to celebrate is a good one, according to David Parrish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Toes Have It

**Author's Note:**

> August 6th is National Wiggle Your Toes Day and was written on that day to celebrate.

Something smelled good, thought Evan. He was fairly certain he recognized cinnamon and ginger wafting from the small lab attached to the greenhouse where he'd come to search for David. His mouth watered; he hoped it was David concocting something in there. He scanned the room, which seemed empty at first glance, but that didn't mean a botanist or someone else wouldn't suddenly appear from behind the tiers of plants or stands of saplings being carefully nurtured for one reason or another.

"Dr Parrish?" he called out cautiously.

"In here. Come and join me," came the welcome response.

"You know, you don't have to cook dinner down here, David."

"It's not dinner."

"But I can smell ginger. And lemongrass," protested Evan, coming closer, but restraining himself from hugging his partner around the waist in case he was at a crucial stage involving the precise measuring or adding ingredients. His liking for Asian cuisine in general was no secret. He gave several exaggerated sniffs. "Yes, that's ginger all right. And cinnamon. And cloves." Pointing to some items on the bench he said somewhat triumphantly, "See. I was right. But where are the veggies?" He tried to peer into the large saucepan in which David stirred his concoction. "That's not a wok."

"No kidding, Sherlock," teased David. "This is not a wok, there's no lemongrass and I'm not making dinner."

"Huh."

"It'll have to be dinner in the Mess. Unless you've anything in your quarters that'll do," he said as he turned out the gas. "This has to cool down, then I've one or two more things to add before it's ready."

"Ready for what?" Evan watched with interest as David transferred the contents of the pan to a clean bowl. Whatever it was, it was white and creamy and smelled delicious. Dessert, maybe? he wondered.

"Come on. I can finish the rest in your quarters." He gathered up a bunch of herbs, his scissors and the bowl.

"Ah, it'll have to be the Mess. We ate everything except half a box of crackers," said Evan as he pictured the contents of his food cupboard. "But we don't have to eat there - we could collect a tray. You look like you've got dessert covered."

"It's not dessert."

"Oh."

"Oh," mimicked David. "It's for after dessert," he said, his tone hinting as all sorts of possibilities as they headed to the nearest transporter.

After demolishing the meatloaf and the fruit pie they'd taken back to Evan's quarters, David added a measure of finely chopped herb to his embrocation and then joined Evan on the sofa as he stirred the mixture with a spatula. 

"That's lavender, so we can't be eating it. You're making a massage crème!"

"Actually, lavender is a marvellous culinary herb, but you're right. This is a massage crème and there's a reason I made it. Do you know what today is?"

Evan ran through his mental calendar. It wasn't his birthday, or David's. They weren't up to celebrating any anniversary, not even one the ridiculous ones like eight months. He wasn't aware of any Athosian or Satedan festivities Dr Weir had added to the list of holidays to be acknowledged. He shrugged his shoulders. "I give up."

"Back home it's the 6th of August."

"And?"

"It's 'Wiggle Your Toes Day'."

"Huh?"

"The 6th of August is Wiggle Your Toes Day," sing-songed David with a grin. 

Evan looked down at his bare feet and wiggled his toes. "Look! I've just celebrated, although it's not much of a holiday, really."

David surveyed his big toes poking out through holes in his socks and flexed them several times. The resultant cracks made them both shudder.

"That's not all people do to celebrate. Walking in sand or water is good. So is squelching around in the mud – I did consider getting one of those plastic crates from storage and making us our own mud puddle just so I could get the perfect mix of clay, dirt and water for that real proper _squelch_."

"Oh, yeah," murmured Evan. He wriggled his toes again.

David set his bowl on the table and then lifted Evan's feet onto his lap. "You'll be pleased to know I nixed the firewalking suggestion," he said as he chafed Evan's feet. 

Evan gave a small moan. David's hands felt good on his feet. "That's good. And it's good we're not firewalking again," he added after moaning again, that time little louder and a little longer. Occasionally crazy Pegasus rituals were the same as Earth rituals.

"I thought about drawing faces on your toes. A smiley one here, a frowny one here, a surprised one here," continued David conversationally, twisting and bending one of Evan's toes at a time until it cracked its release for every face he described, "but you're the artistic one."

Evan disengaged one foot and poked David in the ribs with his toes. "I really don't think you need to be artistic to draw a smiley face."

David grabbed Evan's foot and held it firmly. "Probably not," he agreed. "Anyway, I thought of the ideal way to celebrate." He reached into his bowl and scooped up a good-sized blob of crème with his fingers. The sniff test scored a nod of satisfaction and a pleased smile.

Evan hummed with pleasure as David began working the home-made liniment into his left foot. 

"Oh, yeah. More please," he begged. He closed his eyes and concentrated on not tensing up as David's capable thumbs repeatedly stripped the sole of his foot with pressure that was just shy of painful. There was the callous that had formed beneath his second and third toes. The spot where it still ached from the sprain a month ago. His Achilles tendon was tighter than he realized when David carefully squeezed it. His right foot had just as many sore places, but David's hands were warm and his ministrations felt so good. 

It took some time for Evan to notice the subtle change in technique; things didn't feel quite so therapeutic. He opened his eyes and took in the expression of concentration on his lover's face as David focussed on Evan's feet. He smiled when he noticed the tip of David's tongue sticking out.

David must have picked up on Evan's change in consciousness as he looked up and caught his eye. Evan's heart seemed to flip inside his chest as David's smile brightened. He caught the glint of mischief, but there was no time to even draw breath as he almost rolled off the sofa when he found his feet suddenly being mercilessly tickled. 

"Da-a-a-vid!" he screeched between bouts of laughter. "I'll get you for that."

They wrestled; mostly aiming for those places they knew were ticklish, until someone's elbow caught the bowl, which was still more than half full of liniment. Somehow it ended upside down on Evan's head.

"Don't think I can't see you trying not to laugh," said Evan as he carefully took the bowl from his head.

"Um, so I guess you won't want to celebrate 'Wiggle Your Toes Day' any more?" said David as he backed away.

"I think I'd rather celebrate something else, like 'Wash Your Partner's Hair Day'," said Evan as he scraped a handful of gunk from his hair.

"I can do that," agreed David. He moved closer and placed an apologetic kiss on Evan's nose. "Ugh!" he exclaimed as he felt Evan's hand on his head. "I should have known you'd do that. Come on, you."

And off they went to the bathroom to celebrate their new holiday.

END


End file.
